


moving (out/in/on/up)

by thescyfychannel



Category: Homestuck
Genre: M/M, Multi, best friends dan and dave, siblings being shits, they're all huge nerds honestly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-14
Updated: 2018-02-14
Packaged: 2019-03-18 09:54:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13679334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thescyfychannel/pseuds/thescyfychannel
Summary: you're all gonna be just fine.





	1. Chapter 1

Picking Eridan up from the airport, every time before the last, has always felt like getting let out of prison. You're sure it's more so for him, from the relief in his eyes, from the way he'd cling to you when he got off the plane, headed down to baggage claim, out past the security checkpoint. Even more from the way he'd cling to you when it was time for him to head home again.

The last time you picked him up from the airport, he'd bought a one-way ticket and sent all his shit ahead with some moving company whose name you couldn't even pronounce. He'd timed things to arrive three days before it did, but it ended up being two because snow is a _bitch_ and so are delays, but the airport selfies he sent, snuggled up to his bag on a chair as he prepped for a nap, were really fucking cute. You've still got one as your background.

 

This time, he'd bought a two-way ticket—"There an' back again, Dave," he'd joked, and you'd rolled your eyes: even if he was _reall_ y excited about traveling to a conference, you couldn't deny the fact that airports made you, well. Twitchy.

It doesn't stop you from getting a little routine worked out. You get him something warm, cocoa or coffee or a cool drink, depending on time of day, year, weather, how tired he sounded when he was texting—he picked you up something to snack on in the car ride back, and you'd wait around the third pillar from whatever baggage claim he'd been assigned to. Airports were pretty uniform like that.

(Sure, you could've pulled the car around. But you liked this a hell of a lot better. Seeing his face light up, hearing your best friend _insist_ that you didn't have to go through all the trouble, it was cute as fuck.)

 

This time when you picked Eridan up, you had a cocoa in hand for him, and one for yourself. Sunset was just scraping over the airport’s panes and planes, but he’d been traveling for hours and hours, and you wanted him in bed as soon as you got back home.

This time, the airport still made you a little twitchy. Still had your nerves standing up on end, when you saw him, but _this_ time, there were no bruises keeping his sleeves long and his movements short, no haunted-hunted look in his eyes. You hauled him into your arms before he could haul his luggage off the belt (which he still insisted on doing himself, one-handed, just to show off), and told him you’d missed him.

 

“You’re going the fuck to sleep as soon as we get home, Ampora,” you inform him.

He rolls his eyes at you. “Lay off, Strider, I haven’t even eaten _shit_ — _hey_.”

You manage to steal one of his bags from him, and he groans, rolling the other one along instead. “Allowances may be made for food and drink, as long as the requisite forms are done in triplicate and submitted three weeks ahead of time.”

“Either feed me or drop me off at a Denny’s. Your choice, Dave.”

“Well shit, guess I have to feed you then.”

He grins, and nudges you, looping an arm around you in a way that makes you both stumble a little awkwardly as you try to roll his suitcases back towards your car. “You’d fuckin’ better. I have dates planned, I can’t show up lookin’ like a heap a skin an’ bones.”

You don’t comment on the fact that he looks better than he has in ages: he prefers it that way, and besides, you’ve seen him staring in the mirror often enough, as if he can’t understand who he’s seeing.

“Promise they’ll turn out just fine,” you say, soft reassurance in the lavender twilight, and something in him goes easy. You’re both gonna be just fine.


	2. Chapter 2

Eridan, it seems, has a boyfriend.

It’s not that you're jealous, as Dirk suggests over lunch, with all the air of a scientist attempting to sort out the newest problem with a long running project.

"It's not like that with Dan," you say, attempting not to grind your teeth. And really? It’s not. You two work better as partners, as a team, you can cuddle up with him on the couch or crash together in the same bed, and _objectively_ , he's fine as hell. But it's...not like that? And you like it like that.

"Ah," says Dirk. "So you're queer platonic partners, then? You know, there's been a lot of research done on traditional—"

"Dirk," you say, "I've already been psychoanalyzed by Rose. Either shut up or pay for my lunch."

He talks for more than half an hour. You order an extra dessert on his dime and take it home to Eridan.

 

It's more that this new guy is the _definition_ of the word infuriating. He's fucking obnoxious. He's a know-it-all, he goes from never talking to never shutting up, and you _think_ he might have done something weird to the wifi.

The fact that he keeps kicking your ass at video games doesn't help either.

You're not even sure what's going on with him and Eridan—they seem to snipe at each other over the pettiest shit, only Eridan doesn't _look_ pissed, when he's calling Captor out over leaving his dirty socks on the floor after staying the night. And he makes the asshole lunches, and you're _pretty damn sure_ that Sollux "Antisocial" Captor _actually_ braved a grocery store to pick up s'mores poptarts for Eridan. At least, that's what it looked like, when you got home to an empty living room with a discarded cardboard box on the table, and a _really_ good reason to visit Rose for the night.

 

But Eridan likes him, and you're pretty sure he's good to Eridan, and, well. Eridan _deserves_ a lot of good in his life. Even if you can't fucking _stand_ Captor, you can't deny that he makes Eridan pretty damn happy.

 

 

When Eridan has another conference, you drive him out to the airport—him and Captor both, actually, and it's awkward as shit on the way back. You drop the dude off at his apartment, and go back to yours, trying _not_ to think about how empty the place is whenever Dan's gone.

 

Quiet, too.

 

 

It takes a couple of days of you sprawled out across the couch, enjoying the blessed, _blissful_ silence, for you to finally come out of denial: you really don't like being alone.

Midway through that realization—and a quarter of the way to being desperate enough to call Rose for her godawful and inaccurate insights—there's a knock on the door.

You wait a moment. Another, slightly more tentative knock follows.

 

When you open the door, Sollux Captor doesn't even wait for you to move out of the doorframe before slipping past you. Goddamn, he's skinny. Has Eridan been feeding him right—wait, nope, you do not give a duck's dick about it.

"I brought the new Assassin's Creed, or you can _attempt_ to regain some semblance of dignity on Mario Kart," the home invader informs you. You shut the door, staring at him. "Face it, DS, you suck at that shit."

"Staying in last place to get the best items is a _strategy_ , Captor," you reply.

"Only if you actually know how to play," he says.

You pause. You don't comment on how nervous he looks. The way he hasn't _quite_ unpacked, like he's ready to shove everything back into his bag if you say to go. The way he looks...tired, and careworn, and nearly as lonely as you do.

You make a decision.

"I'll get the takeout menu."

"God, no, you have the _worst_ taste—"

"Oh, fuck off, you're dating Eridan Ampora. I'm from Houston."

He pauses, amends his next reply, and sighs. "Fuck, you're right. Order away."

 

 

Okay, so—you still _really_ hate the guy. But like. Maybe only in an ironic kind of way.

**Author's Note:**

> happy valentine's day, dude


End file.
